Page 98 of Loved By The Bad Boy

They are pretty, yes. But the heels are nearly as tiny as needles. They are better as torture devices than fashion instruments.

“Fuck those shoes,” he says.

“Fuck ‘em,” I reply, and we burst out laughing.

My head falls back as the laughter takes control of my body, squeezing out the residue fear in my pores. The click-clack of the cameras reminds us we are at a professional shoot. I love the idea of my boyfriend in my pictures, so I hang onto the moment until Ben subtly eases out of the frame.

Even in his absence, I don’t lose composure. My smile stays constant, my body and head angling in whatever direction they request. We pause for a break, and two familiar figures wave at me. OMG. My excitement is bottled due to the people around me. I shoot Ben a glare, and he shrugs.

“Moral support,” he says as Imani and Mira pad over to me.

They kiss my cheeks and engulf me in a hug. Mira brings out her phone for a selfie.

“Wait until the boys find out we had a shoot without them,” Mira says. She retracts her phone and posts the selfies in our group chat, her caption as wicked as her smile. She’s evil, and I love it.

Ben looks up when his phone pings. He reads her messages and rolls his eyes. I love, love, love him. When the short break is over, Imani pats my cheek, running her fingers through my hair to make it appear fuller. It’s useless since the fan will steer it in whatever direction, but I appreciate it.

They wait behind while we resume the pictures. My hair flies around my face in response to the fan, and warmth bubbles up to my throat as my friends stand beside my boyfriend. The day goes by fast. I yawn a few times. My stomach knots and the pangs of hunger sink into my abdomen.

Ben is there to save the day as soon as we finish the shoot. He lifts me, and my legs cage around his waist with my head nestled in his shoulder. Jon promises to keep in contact and update us. I trust him to pick out the best picture for their shoot, exiting the place with my favorite humans.

Imani and Mira came in one car. After agreeing to meet at a diner, they leave for Imani’s vehicle. My phone lights up with new messages from the group. I look up as Imani’s car zooms off and Ben plops into the driver seat. I laugh at Calum’s new text. He demands to know why he wasn’t invited to the shoot. Mira replies, asking for a picture of his vagina. He walked right into that one. Ben wasn’t in any of the selfies she sent to the group, and her caption says it all.Girls power.

“You good?” Ben murmurs. He fastens my seatbelt, and my head drops to the window.

“How did I do?” I ask. My fingers disappear into my dress. The designer said I could keep it.

“Two million over two hundred,” he says.

“Benny,” I whine. Ben, the copycat.

He starts the car but doesn’t drive. Taking hold of my hand, he layers kisses on my knuckles.

“On a scale of awesome to awesome,” he starts. I nod, waiting for his assessment. “You did awesomely well.”

Forty-One

“Not that way, Mrs. Mower,”Maria says. I tilt my phone on the dresser so she can have a better view of what Mom is doing to my hair. “A little more to the side will be perfect. No! Just a little.”

Since Maria wouldn’t be here, she insisted on being part of the process. I sense her frustration when Mom lets my hair down against her instructions. It tumbles down my shoulders in waves.

“Well… you don’t look so bad.”

“She doesn’t look badat all,” Mom retorts.

I laugh. These two. They cannot agree on the same thing. Mom thinks she knows what’s best for her only daughter. Maria believes she has the best opinion for her best friend since they are both in the same age group. I flip my hair over my shoulder, loving the effects of the curling iron.

Mom sets the curling iron down and pins the hair to one side so it flows over only one shoulder.

“I love it,” I tell her, and she grins. Maria rolls her eyes. “I love you too, bestie.”

Maria’s frown disappears, and her game face returns. You would think today was about her.

“What’s the color of your dress?” she asks.

“Champagne?”

It is a handmade sequin dress. Thinking about it makes me smile. It was an early graduation gift from Mom. Ben will have to work his way around the soft material to get to the promiseland.

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